Housemates
by sandersonsister
Summary: Thomas shouldn't have let Teresa talk him into moving into a house with a bunch of people he didn't know. Of course there's someone he's attracted to living here. Because that's the way his life works. He shouldn't have listened to Teresa.
1. Chapter 1

A/N: I've had this story posted on AO3 for awhile, but I decided to post it here as well. I should update every couple of days until I catch up to where I am over there. Hope you all enjoy!

Thomas wasn't sure how he had ended up here. He and Teresa (his neighbor and best friend since he was three) had been talking about moving out and getting an apartment together. Neither of them could afford something on their own, and at twenty-two, both were ready to get out of their parents houses. Somehow, the "let's be roommates!" speech Teresa had given him had turned into an "I found the perfect place! One small thing…"

Yeah, that "small thing" consisted of three other guys.

Apparently, a friend of Teresa's, Minho, had bought a house a year ago and shared it with two other guys. They currently had two rooms open and had offered one of the rooms to Teresa – who in turn had pulled Thomas into renting the other room.

So, now here he was, staring at a two story house while Teresa started pulling various items out of the back of Thomas's dads truck (he had borrowed it so they could bring over the box's – the bigger items, such as beds and dressers, had been moved when Thomas was at work the day before).

"Thomas! Are you going to help me or are you going to stand there?!" Teresa demanded, placing her hands on her hips in annoyance and glaring.

"T, I don't even know where I'm going yet," Thomas reminded her, rolling his eyes, "In case you forgot, I haven't been here."

Teresa grimaced slightly, "Right. Well, I let Minho know we are here and he said he'd be out in a minute to help us move the boxes in."

As if summoned, the front door of the house open and two young men, both around his age if Thomas remembered correctly, spilled out onto the lawn. "Teresa! Hi!" One of the men yelled, running toward them with a bright smile on his face. He was Asian, with broad shoulders and strong arms. "You guys need help? You must be Thomas! I'm Minho! This is Gally," he said quickly, motioning to the other boy beside him.

Gally merely nodded, his arms crossed over his chest as his eyes raked over Thomas. Thomas nodded back, his stomach sinking. Something about this guy didn't sit well with him – something he had been afraid of when Teresa suggested moving into a house full of people he didn't know.

"Gally, help Teresa unload everything and I'll give Thomas a quick tour! We'll come back and help move everything into the house!" Minho rambled, grabbing onto Thomas's arm and pulling him toward the house. Thomas looked over his shoulder to Teresa, eyes wide, only to see her smirking back at him.

"Alright, living room," Minho started, gesturing to the open room with a worn out sofa and two recliners that were facing a television that looked to have several gaming systems around it. "Do you play?"

Thomas nodded, "Some."

"Awesome! Next is the kitchen," Minho continued further into the house, showing a small kitchen with mismatched chairs at a table. Minho just waved his hand around, obviously not having much to say about the room, before leading them back into the living room and down a hallway. "Main bathroom, my room is across the hall. This," he pushed open what Thomas thought was just a door to a closet, only to show steps leading down, "is the basement. When I got the house it was unfinished and a freaking mess. Newt, he's not here right now, you can meet him later, fixed it up and it's his room. Not going down there, privacy and all." He pulled the door shut once more and pointed to the staircase leading up. "Come on then."

Thomas followed him up the stairs and into another hallway. "Gally's room," Minho said, motioning to the first door on the right, "across from that is bathroom. You and Gally will be sharing that one, Newt and I share the one downstairs. Not that you cant use it or anything, its just easier in the morning's when everyone is trying to get ready…" he shrugged, motioning to the door beside the bathroom. "Teresa's. We gave her the master bedroom. It has its own bath so we don't have to worry about…" he trailed off, blushing slightly as he turned and pushed open the door across from Teresa's. "Tada! This one is yours."

Thomas stepped in, looking around the room curiously. It wasn't huge, but it definitely wasn't small. Actually, it was about the same size of his room at his parents. The queen size bed had been set up in the middle, the headboard pressed against the wall, while the dresser was positioned on the wall on the right. His computer desk was on the left, with the bookshelf beside it.

"I don't know how much Teresa has told you… did she explain food and stuff?"

Thomas snorted, shaking his head, "The only thing I got from Teresa was "I found the perfect place for us! Don't argue Thomas!"."

Minho laughed, rolling his eyes, "Yeah, I can see that. Basically, you pay rent to me every month and it goes towards all the bills. I take some of that and put it into the grocery fund and every week someone goes shopping. We keep a list of the refrigerator of what we need. There is a calendar in the kitchen that we write down if we are going to be here for meals..." He rolled his eyes. "I'm not good at explaining it, Newt is better. Basically, everyone's name is on a board and we write our schedules down there. That way whoever's turn it is to cook knows if someone is going to be here or not. We take turns making breakfast and dinner, lunch is fend for yourself… did that make any sense?"

Thomas nodded, making a mental note to go write his information on the "board" and see when it's his turn for cooking. "Do we have a schedule for other things, too?"

Minho nodded enthusiastically. "Yeah. Just like cleaning after the meals and taking out trash and stuff. We added you guys in last night."

Thomas nodded and the two went back downstairs, not surprised to see that Gally and Teresa had moved most of the stuff out of the truck. "What do you have in here, Greenie?" Gally huffed, holding one of the boxes and passing it off to Thomas as soon as he walked toward him.

Thomas groaned at the sudden weight, but raised an eyebrow at the nickname. "Greenie? And books."

"Thomas is a nerd," Teresa teased, walking past him into the house with her own box.

He rolled his eyes, used to the comments by the other girl, and followed her into the house. Between the three boys and Teresa, it took about thirty minutes to get the boxes where they needed to go, and then the two were left to unpack.

"Well," Teresa huffed from across the hall, her hands on her hips as she looked around her room. Thomas just chuckled as he watched her from his open door. "We should go check out that schedule – Minho told you about that, right?"

Thomas nodded, "Yeah. I think he said it was in the kitchen?"

The two made their way back down the stairs, Thomas laughing when they passed Minho groaning on the couch about heavy boxes, and made their way into the kitchen. Gally was there, cramming his mouth full on a sandwich. "Looks like I have cooking breakfast on Tuesday," Teresa said, staring at the board hanging on the wall, "and cleaning on Thursday. You have dinner Monday and cleaning Wednesday."

Gally swallowed quickly, motioning to the calendar beside the board, "Write your schedules down there. That way if someone has something to do one day and can't cook or whatever, we can change the schedule around."

Teresa grabbed the sharpie beside the calendar and began to fill out her schedule, every so often frown in concentration like she was trying to remember something. After a few minutes, she let out a sigh and passed the sharpie to Thomas. "I need to unpack," she muttered, making her way out of the kitchen.

Thomas sighed, slowly filling in his own schedule. They had moved on a Saturday, one Thomas had taken off work for, so let's see… he worked nine to three tomorrow, and had classes Monday, Wednesday, and Friday from 9 to 2. Tuesday and Thursday he only had a lab from 10 to 12. As least the classes didn't change… until next semester, anyway. His work schedule was a little trickier.

Thomas worked at a local coffee shop, and his hours tended to change drastically depending on the week. Monday he worked from 3 to 8, Tuesday he had the morning shift from 5 to 9:30, Wednesday was 3 to eleven and he was off Thursday and Friday, and working 12 to 8 on Saturday. That meant it was going to be hard for him to cook dinner on Monday, and do the cleaning Wednesday. He let out a sigh, turning to look at Gally. "If you can't-"

"Just look at the schedule and see if someone will trade you," Gally muttered, rolling his eyes as he looked over Thomas's shoulder. "You get your schedule a week in advance? We can try to work around it."

"Usually two," Thomas answered, scanning the calendar to see if there was anyone that could take his time – and he could take theirs. Teresa had late classes on Monday's, so that was out. Gally was open, but his day for cooking was Wednesday, so that wouldn't work either. Minho was also open Monday and he had the breakfast shift Monday morning, maybe he would just trade him?

"I can trade cleaning days," Gally muttered, marking his name off of the Friday slot and placing Thomas's in, while placing his own over Thomas's Wednesday. "Hey, Minho! Trade Thomas cooking on Monday!"

"Why?"

"He works late! You take dinner, he can do breakfast!"

"Fine!"

"See Greenie? All worked out," Gally muttered, smirking slightly.

Thomas nodded, looking over the board and noticing Newt's name was on most of the cooking slots. The others only had to cook one day a week, but Newt had the rest. "Why is Newt cooking so much?"

"Huh? Oh. Newt goes to school but he doesn't work. He trades his rent for doing most of the cooking and klunk. He also fixed the basement so it's actually livable. We just do the cooking and stuff on the days that he has classes or can't be here."

Thomas nodded in understanding, looking at the calendar toward Newt's name. He was on for dinner tonight, but it looked like Minho had been on breakfast. "He went out of town with his girlfriend yesterday, should be back before five," Gally answered the unasked question, shrugging his shoulders. "Girls a menace. Wish he'd just get rid of her."

Thomas wasn't sure how to reply, but he didn't have too. Minho took care of that for him, "Oh, stiff it, Gally." He muttered, walking into the kitchen and looking at Thomas's schedule before whistling. "Busy, aren't you?"

"You don't like her either," Gally snapped, moving back toward his sandwich.

"No, but I also don't make comments about it. You know how Newt is, even if he wants to end it with her, he won't because it would prove you right. Back off and he'll do it sooner or later," Minho said calmly, crossing his arms over his chest before turning his eyes to Thomas. "She really is horrible. No clue why he started with her in the first place."

"Maybe he liked her?" Thomas questioned, smiling lightly as Minho chuckled.

"Wait until you meet her. You'll understand then. I don't know how anyone could like her."

Thomas nodded, motioning toward the stairs. "I gotta unpack."

It took a little over two hours to get everything out of boxes and in some semblance of order. He needed to redo his books and his movies, but otherwise things seemed to be where they needed to go. He had just sprawled out on his bed, exhausted, when Teresa barged into his room, a smile on her face.

"You know, you should know by now not to do that," Thomas remarked mildly, remembering the times his best friend had come into his room unannounced and seen him in positions they would rather both forget.

Teresa's smile instantly dropped at the memory. "I figured you were unpacking. God, we've only been here three hours!"

Thomas just laughed, sitting up and looking toward his friend. "What's up?"

"Dinner! You haven't got to meet Newt yet, right? He's been here for about an hour, but he said you haven't made an appearance. He made chicken!"

Thomas moved to his feet, feeling somewhat nervous to meet the last member of the household. He guess Gally wasn't too bad, he had helped him in the kitchen after all, and Minho seemed great. He really hoped the last guy was alright.

He followed Teresa down the stairs and into the kitchen, seeing Minho and Gally already sitting there with some sort of chicken on their plates. "Hey, I'm Newt," an accented voice sounded from Thomas's left, making the male freeze slightly. He always had a thing for accents.

Thomas turned his head to see a smiling blonde. A very attractive smiling blonde. He smiled back, mentally cursing Teresa for not warning him. "Hey, I'm Thomas."

Newt's smile grew as he motioned toward the table. "Help yourself."

Thomas slid into the seat beside Teresa who was fighting back a grin. He shot her a glare before taking a piece of chicken as Newt sat across from him, beside Minho. "Unpacked?" Minho asked threw a mouthful of food. Teresa shot him a disgusted look in return.

"I am. And Thomas was passed out on his bed, so hopefully he is too," she teased.

"Mostly," Thomas agreed, once again ignoring her. "Just need to fix the bookshelves-"

"Of course you do," Teresa laughed, cutting him off. She turned to look at the other boys, shaking her head, "Those bookshelves – he knows where every book is. If you move one, he'll know."

"Bloody hell, Tommy," Newt said, raising an eyebrow, "that important, are they?"

Thomas blinked, a little taken back by the nickname, but shrugged in return. "I like to read. And this one," he said, elbowing the laughing girl beside him, "likes to take my stuff without asking. Or hide it."

Newt turned to her with a questioning look, only to receive a shrug in response. "It's funny to watch him freak out."

Minho laughed brightly, looking from Thomas to Teresa and back again. "How long have you two known each other?"

"Since we were three," Teresa replied easily, taking a small bite of her chicken, "my parents moved beside his and we were the only kids in the neighborhood. It was either hang out with the loser or be by myself."

"We were three!" Thomas said, rolling his eyes, "Pretty sure we didn't have much of a choice in the matter. My mom used to babysit you."

Teresa waved away his words, "Not the point. Plenty of people are friends when they are little and ignore each other when they get older."

Minho laughed while Newt let out a smirk. "She's right about that."

"So, you two aren't…?" Minho trailed off, wagging his eyebrows.

Thomas felt his nose scrunch in disgust while Teresa recoiled, "No! Oh no! That's disgusting!"

"Thanks!" Thomas replied sarcastically.

Teresa shrugged, "It would be like kissing my brother."

"Some people find that attractive. The brother thing," Minho replied seriously, making everyone turn to him in horror. He shrugged, smiling brightly. "Well, they do!"


	2. Chapter 2

Thomas fell asleep quickly that night, something that surprised him considering he usually had a hard time falling asleep in strange places. It must have just been because he had such a long day of moving boxes and unpacking.

Either way, he woke up the next morning feeling completely rested. It was only seven, so he still had about an hour before he needed to jump in the shower, get ready, and leave for work to be there at nine. Thomas smiled to himself, stretching out like a cat. Maybe this would all work out.

"Thomas? You awake?" Teresa called through the door softly.

Thomas fought back a groan. Of course she would be awake at seven o'clock on a Sunday morning. "Yeah."

The door opened instantly and Teresa ran in, jumping on his bed with a wide smile on her face. "Newt says he's going to have breakfast ready around eight – he saw that you had to be at work at nine."

Thomas shifted uncomfortably, "He didn't have to do that. I could have just grabbed a bagel or something when I got there."

"Too late!" Teresa quipped, lying on the bed and resting her head against Thomas's chest. "They're great, aren't they? Minho is awesome, and Newt is such a sweetheart. Gally seems alright too."

Thomas grunted in agreement and pulled himself up, dislodging Teresa from his chest. "Hey!"

"Shower," he muttered, grabbing his work clothes and making his way into the bathroom. If Newt was going to have breakfast ready by eight, he might as well make himself presentable. Maybe he would get the chance to talk to the other boy without an awkward conversation, unlike the night before.

They really didn't converse much after the brother and sister comment from Minho. Thomas was pretty sure everyone else was feeling just as uncomfortable as he was.

He took a quick shower, got dressed, fixed his hair into some sort of order, and brushed his teeth before he decided he could make his way downstairs. He pulled the bathroom door open, only to see Gally reaching for the handle. "Done, Greenie? Great. Can you move?"

Thomas stepped out of the other boy's way quickly, not surprised when the door slammed shut behind him a moment later. He just shrugged and went down the stairs and into the kitchen. "Morning!" Minho greeted as he passed from where he was sprawled out on the couch, a controller in his hand. Thomas noticed he didn't even move his eyes from the television, where he seemed to be shooting at some sort of alien or something.

"Morning," Thomas muttered in reply, stepping into the kitchen and slowly sinking into the chair he had sat in the night before at the table.

Newt turned toward him, his blue eyes bright with amusement from where he seemed to be cooking pancakes. Thomas's mouth began to water instantly. "Morning, Tommy. You look ready to go," he commented, eyes tracing over Thomas's clothing.

Thomas nodded, "I'll leave about eight thirty. Pancakes?"

"Hope it's alright," Newt said, heating up the burner. "Seemed safe enough until I find out what you and Teresa like."

"Teresa is basically a human garbage disposal," Thomas commented, hearing a snapped "Hey!" from where Teresa had apparently joined Minho in the living room, "and I like basically anything that doesn't include mushrooms."

Newt looked at him in faux horror. "No mushrooms? Blasphemy!"

Thomas chuckled as Newt smirked at him, "So no mushrooms in your omelet. Noted."

Thomas groaned at the thought of an omelet. "That sounds amazing too. I've been eating so much frozen food since I started working all the time… I can't remember the last time I ate something homemade."

This time the horror on Newt's face looked real, "Frozen food? No. Gally eats that trash for lunch sometimes, but no." He turned back to the pancakes, face twisted in concentration. "I should have some ready in a minute."

Thomas nodded and the two sat in comfortable silence for a few minutes. Thomas tried to come up with a topic of conversation, but everything he thought of seemed to be worse than the previous. He was sure Newt already thought he was a complete nerd, thanks to Teresa, and he didn't want to encourage the boy to think he was even weirder than he already thought. The only other topic he could think of was Newt's girlfriend, and honestly, he wasn't sure he wanted to open that can of worms yet.

"So, where do you work?" Newt questioned, placing a newly cooked pancake on a plate.

"Uh, the coffee shop next to the bookstore on the square," Thomas answered quickly, "Just until I graduate, anyway."

"I've been there a few times," Newt said, "Don't think I've seen you, though."

Thomas shrugged. No, he was pretty sure he would have remembered seeing Newt. "My shift changes constantly and there are a few of us that work there. So, you're in college, right? What are you studying?"

"Engineering," Newt answered, his lips quirking up when he noticed Thomas's shocked look, "it's interesting. What about you?"

"Computer science with a minor in business," Thomas answered quickly. Engineering? So not only was this guy attractive, he was also smart? Perfect. This just keeps getting better and better.

"Good field," Newt said, placing the plate on the table and sliding into the chair across from Thomas once again. "Hey! You lot! Breakfast."

Minho and Teresa moved into the kitchen instantly, both pushing each other to see who could make it to the table first, before they descended on the pancakes like hyenas. Thomas watched in shock as Minho was able to stuff an entire pancake in his mouth. He was sure Teresa was the only person that ate like that.

Newt rolled his eyes and slapped his friend in the back of the head, making Minho let out a wounded noise and stare at the blonde boy with puppy eyes. "Manners," Newt reprimanded, pushing the plate of pancakes toward Thomas. "Didn't know she was a female Minho," he said, motioning toward Teresa, "better get some before they disappear."

Thomas let out a chuckle as he took a couple pancakes, only to groan as Teresa elbowed him in the stomach. "Teresa!" He snapped, rubbing the area. He was sure that was going to bruise.

She ignored him and began to talk to Minho about whatever game he had been playing. Teresa had always been into video games more than Thomas. He enjoyed creating video games, but he wasn't big into playing them. It was fun every so often, just not constantly.

Gally practically fell into the kitchen at that point, slowly making his way to his chair and placing his head against the table. "Not a morning person," Newt commented quietly to Thomas, winking. Thomas sucked in a quick breath at the gesture, fighting the urge to blush.

Gally looked up and glared at the British boy before his eyes landed on the one pancake left. "Dammitt, Minho!" He snapped, grabbing the remaining pancake as he glared at the other boy.

"It wasn't just me!" Minho protested, motioning across the table to Teresa.

"Should have been quicker," Teresa replied nonchalantly, shrugging her shoulders and not in the least fazed at the glare she was receiving.

Gally opened his mouth to respond angrily, but apparently thought better of it as his mouth snapped shut and he bit angrily into his breakfast.

Thomas looked to Newt, only to see the boy watching the exchange in amusement. "Need to start making more," he said with a cheeky grin, taking a bite of his own breakfast.

"So, what were you two talking about?" Teresa asked, glancing at Newt and Thomas. "You know, before we came in. And you were here. Alone."

Thomas shot a glare at his friend before sneaking a glance across the table. Newt had an eyebrow raised in amusement, though he seemed to be slightly confused. "Not much. What our major's are. What about you?"

Teresa frowned, "My what?"

"What is your shirt size? Your major. You know, what we just said we were talking about?" Newt asked sarcasm heavy in his voice.

Teresa's eyes narrowed and Thomas swallowed back a laugh. "Accounting."

Newt's eyes widened and disgust flashed across his face, "Why?"

"Because I can," Teresa replied dangerously, her hand tightening around her fork. She always hated it when people questioned her degree choice. Thomas subtly moved away from her, not knowing what she was planning on doing with that fork.

Apparently he wasn't subtle enough, because Teresa shot him a glare and Minho laughed loudly. Thomas grimaced as he stood up, checking the time. "Gotta head out."

"When will you be back?" Teresa questioned, looking away from him from where she had been glaring at Newt. Thomas shivered as the other three boys turned their attention to him, making him uncomfortable with all the attention.

"Uh, I get off at three, but then I need to drop my dad's truck off at the house and get my car," Thomas replied, looking toward the ceiling in an attempt to ignore all the eyes on him.

"Alright, have a good day," Teresa said, instantly turning and starting up a conversation with Minho. Thomas looked back at the table once again, receiving a smile from Newt. He smiled back quickly and turned around, heading out to work.

He should have stayed in bed. First, he got screamed at by a customer who didn't understand that a cappuccino wasn't like a cappuccino you got at a convenient store. He had asked her if she wanted any syrup, had explained that it would just consist of milk and espresso if she didn't, but she hadn't listened. She had taken one drink before spitting it out and screaming at him. He had tried to remain calm, really, he had, but he had lost it when she had thrown the incredibly hot drink on the counter, causing it to splash up on his arms and shirt.

Needless to say, he said some things that resulted in her talking to his manager. And his manager, in turn, talked to him. Only two hours into his shift his head had started to pound, and he knew he wasn't being as personable as he should be. It was hard to be friendly and patient when you were seeing black spots and fighting back nausea.

Second, his tips for the day had been horrendous. Usually he walked away with about twenty dollars at the end of his shift, sometimes more, sometimes less. That day, his total was two dollars. Two. He knew it was most likely because of his attitude after his "discussion" with his manager, but still. Two.

And then, he went to drop off his dad's truck, only to find his dad (who had known he was coming, by the way) had decided to go to the hardware store and had taken his car instead of his mom's. So he had to sit with his mom for an hour, waiting for his dad to get home, with a headache and a coffee covered shirt.

He finally managed to get home around four thirty, walking into the house only to see Minho, Teresa, and Newt sitting on the couch. Teresa and Minho had controllers in their hands, both yelling at each other, while Newt was laughing, shaking his head at their antics.

All three looked up when he walked in, "You're late," Teresa sniped, moving her eyes back to the screen.

"Issues," Thomas muttered, moving past them and toward the stairs.

"Bad day?" A soft voice asked right before Thomas made his way up.

Thomas turned his head, only to see Newt had followed him into the hallway and was leaning against the wall. He looked at Thomas, concern showing in his eyes as they landed on his shirt and red dots on his arms.

"Horrible," Thomas agreed, gesturing toward the stairs. "I need to change."

Newt took a step forward, looking toward his arms once again. "You get burned?"

"Comes with the job," Thomas muttered, taking a step toward the stairs. "I'll be down to eat later. My head is pounding."

Newt didn't stop him again, letting Thomas make his way up the stairs and into his room. Thomas instantly pulled off his clothes and pulled on a pair of pajama pants and a t-shirt before falling onto his bed, closing his eyes tightly to try and block out the sunlight streaming into his room. He groaned as his head continued to pound.

"Tommy?" Newt asked softly, slowly opening his door. Thomas kept his eyes closed but gestured the other boy in, though he wasn't really sure why. He should have been irritated that Newt had just walked into his room, and even more irritated that he had ignored what Thomas had told him about seeing him at dinner. But he felt somewhat… happy that the other boy wanted to talk to him this badly. "I brought you some headache pills and water. Thought it might help."

Thomas opened his eyes slowly to see the other boy holding out the water, pills clenched in his hand. "Thanks," Thomas said in appreciation, slowly sitting up and taking the offered items. He felt a rush of gratitude.

"Sure," Newt replied, watching as he drank the water. "You look horrible. Light bothering you?"

Thomas nodded, shutting his eyes once more and falling back against the bed. He threw his arm over his eyes, once again trying to block out the sunlight. "Alright, up you get, Tommy," Newt said, making Thomas blink at him in confusion.

"Huh?"

"My room is in the basement. No bloody windows down there." He grabbed onto Thomas's arm, pulling him to his feet and gently pushing him toward the door. Thomas just frowned, mind working slow through the pain as Newt led him down the stairs. And then down again, into his dark room. "Take a nap, Tommy." Newt said, gently pushing him toward the bed. Thomas fell on it gratefully, burying his head in the pillow. "I'll wake you for dinner," Newt continued softly, making his way back upstairs.

Thomas was asleep before the door clicked shut.


	3. Chapter 3

Thomas woke to complete darkness. He opened his eyes and blinked in confusion, wondering why there wasn't any form of light. He couldn't have slept that long. It took a few second for the memories to come back to him. Oh, so this was Newt's room.

And he was lying in Newt's bed.

Thomas rolled over, burying his face into Newt's pillow and feeling like a total creeper as he took a deep breath, letting Newt's smell wash over him. Oh god, he was completely insane. Two days. He had known this kid two days.

With that thought in mind, he sat up, slowly moving toward the edge of the bed and blindly moved his hand around. If it was this dark down here, Newt had to have a lamp or something by the bed, right?

His prediction proved true and he quickly flicked it on, letting a soft glow illuminate the area. He blinked, letting his eyes adjust to the sudden brightness, before studying the area around him. Newt's bed was pushed all the way against the wall, a table beside it which held the lamp and a clock. 6:30 pm. He had slept for a few hours and apparently those pills had worked, because Thomas didn't feel even the slightest discomfort in his head.

There was a desk across the room, holding a laptop, with a bookshelf beside it. There seemed to be a few clothing items on the floor, but overall the room was clean. Thomas stood and slowly made his way toward the stairs, stretching out as he went. He had just made it to the door when it swung open, revealing a surprised Newt. "Oh, I was just coming to see how you were. Food's done."

Thomas gave the other man a grateful smile as they walked toward the kitchen. "Much better, thanks for the pills."

"Don't mention it," came the accented reply, a small smile on his face. "Hope you like meatloaf."

Thomas followed him into the kitchen, noticing Gally was absent but Teresa and Minho were both sitting at the table. "Gally not here?"

"Work," Teresa replied, nodding toward the calendar. "You alright? You looked like hell when you came in earlier."

"Long day," Thomas replied, giving Newt a smile as he handed Thomas a plate. "Sleep helped."

"This girl cheats!" Minho said loudly, pointing toward Teresa. She just raised her eyebrows in response. "There is no way she could have won every single game! You didn't tell me she cheats!" He said to Thomas accusingly.

Thomas rolled his eyes, "She doesn't cheat. She's just good a games."

Minho glared angrily while Teresa smirked and Newt chuckled. "Looks like Minho has finally met his match."

They finished eating then made their way into the main room, Minho and Teresa instantly picked up controllers and started yet another game. Thomas resigned himself to watching the two, sinking down onto the floor in front of the couch while Newt took the open seat. "There is a chair, Tommy," Newt said from behind him, motioning to the recliner in the corner of the room.

Thomas merely shrugged, not wanting to move, and leaned against the couch between Newt's legs and Teresa's. Teresa gently nudged him with her knee, smiling as he glanced back at her.

He watched the two of them play for awhile, his back resting against the couch and his left arm pressed against Teresa's right leg. Eventually, he grew bored but didn't want to head to his room and ignore his new roommates.

After another ten minutes of intense boredom, he finally stood and walked down the hall, not noticing the questioning look he got for a certain blonde.

He was back only a minute later, his laptop in hand. Thomas sank back down to his spot on the floor, stretching his legs out in front of him and setting his computer down on them. He quickly opened his browser, thinking that maybe he could start looking up information for a History paper he had due in a couple of weeks.

He became absorbed in his research, drowning out the loud exclamations from Minho and the sarcastic comments from Teresa. Every so often, he would hear Newt chuckle, but he didn't know what was amusing the other boy.

Thomas had held off on taking his last history class, history not being his favorite subject, but he had finally signed up for American History. The class required a ten page paper that was worth about thirty percent of the final grade and they were able to choose from a list of topics. He had chosen Lizzie Borden, always slightly interested in the mystery around the Borden murders. And the more research he did, the more interested he became.

He jumped, startled, when Newt sank down beside him, squinting at the computer screen. "Uhh…"

"I've been reading over your shoulder," Newt told him, completely unabashed. "Fonts too small for me to see up there."

Thomas let out a startled laugh, angling the computer so the other boy could see it more clearly. "Is this for school? Or are you just interested?" Newt asked, his voice soft as his eyes skimmed over the text.

"School. Have to write a paper," Thomas confirmed, looking back toward the computer screen.

Newt merely nodded and continued to read with Thomas. "Well, that's interesting," he muttered, pointing to the time table on the screen. "If based on that time scale, she really couldn't have done it. Not the time."

"No one knows what happened in that thirty minutes," Thomas replied, also confused as he looked at the time table. "The only person that could really tell us anything was Lizzie and Bridgett. And both of their stories changed so often we really have no idea."

Newt frowned and then motioned toward a few references on the screen. "You should probably try to find some of these. See if the books have more information and compare them to each other."

Thomas had already pulled up the school library website, typing in the various titles. "They have one, but the others aren't available. I'll probably stop by the bookstore one night when I get off work and try to find them there."

Newt opened his mouth to respond, but glanced down to the right hand corner of the screen and groaned. "Sorry, I told Alyssa I would pick her up and take her to some movie she wants to see." He stood slowly, reaching down to rub at his right knee. "You have breakfast in the morning, right? I have class early so I won't be here."

Thomas nodded, feeling disappointment and jealousy set in as he watched the other boy walk toward the door. "Night," he called out as he left, receiving a "goodnight" in return from the other three.

"Alyssa the girlfriend?" Teresa questioned, not moving her eyes from the screen. Thomas fought back a scowl at the word. What the hell was wrong with him?

"Yep," Minho replied, "though that's not the name we usually call her."

Teresa laughed loudly, destroying Minho's…whatever that was and Minho let out a loud whine, falling back against the couch and throwing the controller down. "I'm done. My ego can't take much more."

Teresa rolled her eyes and nudged Thomas. "Wanna try?"

"Not remotely," he said instantly, his own ego was permanently low because of the girl. Minho would learn soon.

Teresa shot him a glare, obviously knowing what he was thinking, but turned her attention back to Minho. "She can't be that bad."

Minho's head was resting back against the couch, his eyes closed. "She isn't. For a demon."

Teresa scowled and smacked him in the chest, making the boy's eyes fly open with a howl. "Come one, woman! Haven't you emasculated me enough?!" He rubbed his chest, glaring at Teresa.

"Newt's a nice guy. I'm sure he wouldn't be with her if she was that horrible."

"Newt is a nice guy. Too nice sometimes," Minho countered, "even when she acts like a complete… he just says she's having a bad day. Personally, I think she has more bad days than she does good."

Thomas stood and made his way out of the room, not wanting to hear any more about Newt's girlfriend. No matter what Minho, and Gally, thought of her, Newt was still with her, so he had to like her. And Thomas didn't have any right to feel jealous when the girl was mentioned, he barely even knew Newt.

But even as the thought crossed his mind, he knew the logic wouldn't work. He had somehow developed a completely irrational crush on his roommate and he needed to find a way to make it disappear as fast as possible.


End file.
